The wanting ruptures all barricades
It obliterates your very being
Like a sculptor with a hammer to marble
It tears at your spine, your jaw
To the tips of your fingers it shreds apart your soul

And you sit on the foreboding floor
Beside an empty mahogany chair
You starve as the cold shadows mock
And the craving erupts inside of your body

The light outside dances through your abyss of a room
Daring you to move, wanting you to enter reality
You sit, and you pine for the one thing you cannot have

The scornful laughter from careless strangers attacks you
You are stone cold; you need her, you yearn for her

And I am the one thing you will never have.